


You As You Were

by cavaleira



Category: Marvel (Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Childhood, Gen, Mother-Son Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-09
Updated: 2013-08-09
Packaged: 2017-12-22 21:02:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/917985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cavaleira/pseuds/cavaleira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Before Loki became anything else, he was his mother's son.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You As You Were

**Author's Note:**

> After the second Thor 2 trailer came out, I saw a lot of people on tumblr talking about how it seemed that Loki had learned his fighting style from Frigga. I couldn't resist running with the idea and writing a fic on it. Title shamelessly stolen from a song by Shearwater.

_one._

"Come on, get up Loki," Thor said, triumph clear in his voice. 

Loki gritted his teeth and put his hands flat against the earth to push himself up, even though every part of his body ached. The summer sun was bright in his eyes and sweat dripped down from his brow, but he didn't dare wipe it away, lest his face be as dirt-streaked as his clothing was.

The summer of his eleventh year had brought with it a growth spurt that made him tower over the other boys in his training group, including Thor. 

Not that it really mattered.

It had been fun to rub it in Thor's face for awhile, but that was before Loki came to realize that his height was not the advantage he'd hoped it would be. Loki was tall, but he was thin as a reed. His limbs were awkward and gangly and he felt uncomfortable in his body in ways the other boys didn't seem to.

Though Loki had a natural talent for magic, there was no place for that in the training yards. Real men were strong and muscular, they were warriors, not mages. Loki was young, but he was very observant. He knew that people had already begun to talk and whisper about him. If he did not improve soon, it would only grow worse with time. 

Loki reminded himself over and over again that he was a Prince of Asgard and an Odinson, that surely he could succeed and become the warrior he was supposed to be. But late at night when Thor slept soundly on the other side of the room, Loki felt gripped by the ever present fear of failure, buried deep in his heart where no one could see. 

So every other morning, Loki trained with Thor and the other high-born boys in their age group. He took the bruises, the taunts, and frustrations without complaint. And sure, he cast the occasional trick on one of the others, but only when he couldn't stand it anymore. When he just wanted to _win_ , just once.

Though Thor liked to tease Loki during their training, he wasn't always an ass about it. More often than not he tended to look out for Loki and make sure he was okay. Thor didn't understand that this only made it worse, that every kind word he gave only made Loki appear weak. Loki needed to prove he was just as good as the others on his own strengths. He didn't want or need Thor's help.

When Loki was back on his feet, Thor wrapped an arm around him and slapped him affectionately on the back. Loki struggled to hold on to his footing. Thor never realized just how strong he was.

Thor and Loki fell back into the crowd together, letting the next pair go up to spar. It was then that Loki noticed their mother there on the sidelines. Sometimes their parents came by to watch, a gesture of support and interest in how their sons' lessons were progressing. Loki was grateful that Odin was not there with her. Loki always seemed to do even worse when Odin was watching, which only compounded his fear of being seen as inferior in his father's eyes.

"Look, Mother came," Thor said, grinning and waving at her. It made Loki angry sometimes, the way Thor never doubted that their parents were proud of him. Loki didn't have that luxury and it hardly seemed fair.

Frigga smiled and waved back, giving them both encouraging nods. Loki didn't know if he was imagining it or not, but her gaze always seemed to have a bit more worry around the edges when she looked at him.

  


_two._

Though Loki felt he was too old to go running to his mother for comfort, sometimes he would go to her sitting room after particularly hard training sessions. She would smile at him and then they would lounge on the plush couches, reading in comfortable silence. After all, Loki needed to study his spell books anyway. That he chose to do so in his mother's presence could hardly be construed as a sign of weakness.

Loki's afternoons with Frigga were also a welcome reprieve from Thor, as his brother found the idea of reading quietly for hours to be the most boring thing imaginable. As much as Loki loved Thor, his brother's enthusiasm for life could be a bit much at times. 

On one afternoon, Loki found himself reading the same page of his book over and over, far too pre-occupied to concentrate. His mind kept replaying that day's training and how humiliating it had been to be knocked off his feet four times in a row. The shame clawed at him from the inside, twisting his stomach up in knots. 

"Loki," came Frigga's gentle voice.

"Yes?" Loki said, looking up and across the room at Frigga where she reclined on another couch. 

"I wanted you to know how proud I am of you and how you're progressing with your training."

"Don't lie to me," Loki spat out.

"Would I ever?" Frigga asked, giving him a sharp look.

Loki hung his head. "No," he said. He knew he was wrong for having spoken to his mother in such a way. He was angry with _himself_ , not with her.

"Talk to me, Loki. Please," she said. She crossed the room and sat down on the couch next to him, her presence a warm comfort beside him.

Loki swallowed hard and looked up at her. "How can you be proud of me? I'm the worst one out there, no matter how hard I try," he said in a small voice. He felt drained, as if the admission had cost him greatly.

"You're not," she said as she placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Your teacher is a skilled warrior, but he focuses his attention on a style of fighting that better suits the other boys."

"Like Thor," Loki said, hating the vulnerable lilt in his voice.

"Loki," Frigga said. "To truly shine, one must play to their own strengths. If you would like, I could teach you some things."

Loki looked at her incredulously for a moment. "Mother... I will be fine. I must simply try harder."

Frigga nodded. "Very well then," she said as she stood up and walked back toward her seat. 

Loki's whole body tensed up in shock when a dagger whizzed by his ear and slammed into the wall behind him. He looked up and saw Frigga with her short sword in hand and Loki watched in wide-eyed awe as she performed a long series of strikes. Her movements were swift and precise and with every strike, Loki could hear the whoosh of her blade slicing through the air. Loki could not tear his eyes away as she jabbed and spun around, her hair like a whirlwind around her. Her footwork was fluid and effortless, the lines of her body speaking of a quiet power and mastery. 

Loki had known intellectually that his mother could fight, as all Asgardians had some training with weapons. But he had never understood the extent of his mother's skills. He had never seen her like this before, so beautiful and deadly.

She gave a final spin and then lunged forward, her sword pointed in Loki's direction. Loki opened his mouth to speak but no words would come out. 

Frigga returned to a standing position and gave Loki a smile that was dangerously close to a smirk. "The offer is always open, Loki, should you change your mind," she said before sitting back on the couch and returning to her book as if nothing had happened.

  


_three._

It didn't take Loki long to change his mind.

In the mornings he would train with the other boys, but in the afternoons he would train with Frigga. First they would push the furniture up against the walls to clear some space. Sometimes Loki used his magic to speed along the process, as Frigga said it would be good practice for him.

It was their secret, and Loki _loved_ secrets. Training with Frigga became one of Loki's favorite activities and he had never felt closer to his mother. While Thor might have been Odin's favorite, Loki understood Frigga in ways that Thor never would. He saw the duality in her, a mother's kindness and a warrior's fury. The same soft hands that comforted him when he was ill now instructed him in a style of violence that felt so much more natural to him than anything he'd learned out in the training yards. 

She taught him to use elbows and forearms to disarm opponents, to strike with a purposeful economy of movement that wasted nothing.

"You see, Loki," she said after he'd successfully performed a series of elbow attacks, "you are built for speed and precision."

She motioned for Loki to move forward and attack her, but when he did, she countered with a flurry of movement he could hardly keep track of. He dodged and nearly slipped off of his feet, but she was there to steady him.

Frigga smiled and then placed her hands on his shoulders and looked into his eyes. "Let the others waste their energy swinging their swords as hard as they please. They will not be able to catch you. They won't even see you coming."

Summer became fall and they moved on to learning new techniques. With a bit of magic, they smuggled in an old target from the training yards into the sitting room and set it up for Loki to practice throwing daggers. There was still a crack in the wall from the dagger Frigga had thrown that first day, but it had since been artfully covered up with a tapestry. Loki was tempted to show it to Thor sometimes, but then Thor would know his secret and everything would be ruined. Thor was so well-loved, he already had so much. And maybe it was selfish, but Loki wanted to keep this for himself.

Loki practiced his throwing over and over again and Frigga guided him through it, helping his awkward limbs learn to move with more finesse. She smiled and hugged him after the first time he hit the center of the target. Loki felt like he could finally breathe again, the vice of fear gripping his heart growing looser with every new skill he learned. He loved the rush of it, the thrill of power as the knife left his hand and went where he willed it to.

"You've gotten better," Thor said in the training yards one day as he stared up at Loki in shock. For the first time, Loki had been the one to knock _Thor_ on his ass.

Loki smirked and helped Thor to his feet. "I've been practicing."

  


_four._

The more time Loki spent training with Frigga, the more his confidence grew.

She showed him a variety of weapons, all of which were better suited for his style than a traditional sword. He continued practicing with daggers and also tried a short sword like Frigga's and few staves.

"I think you've found your weapon," she said one day when watching him with a staff. Like Loki, the weapon was tall and thin. When he moved, it felt like an extension of himself.

"Do you really think so?" Loki asked.

Frigga smiled. "Only _you_ can truly answer that. You must forge your own path, and trust yourself to know what's right for you."

Loki did a few more lunges with the staff, letting himself take in the sheer rightness of it all. Because this _was_ his weapon. He truly knew it deep down inside, and the knowledge was a heady feeling. Loki often struggled to have faith in himself, as it seemed like everything that he was sat in direct opposition to everything he ought to be. But Frigga accepted him. She never forced him to hide his true feelings or pretend to be something that he wasn't.

"A staff is a powerful weapon for a mage. One day you'll be able to use it for both striking and magic, and then you'll be truly formidable."

Loki grinned as he spun around and struck outward, imagining the way he might one day be able to shoot magic out from the staff's end.

Frigga nodded. "Now try the attack again. And this time when you spin, don't hold the staff so close to you. Let it extend outward and let the momentum of your body increase the force."

Loki took a deep breath and then burst into action. The heavy whoosh of air was loud in his ears as the weapon swung around, following Loki's movement.

When he was done, Loki laughed and Frigga beamed at him. "Exactly," she said. "A staff has great range and will allow you to keep your opponent at a distance from you."

Loki did the attack a few more times and though he fumbled a bit, he knew that with practice he would be able to master it.

"You were wonderful today, my son," Frigga said, and she looked so proud of him. Loki still ached to feel Odin's pride, but Frigga's was radiant in its own right. And though he would never say so out loud, Loki needed it. He needed it to bolster him through his doubts and fears, needed for her to always look at him that way.

"I'll show you one more thing," she said conspiratorially. "It's rather sneaky, but it might help you get out of a tough situation someday."

Loki's eyes lit up at the prospect of learning something so unscrupulous, and from his mother no less. She raised up her arm and Loki gasped when a small dagger came out from her sleeve and into her hand.

"Most people have a gap in their armor here," she said, placing her hand at a point along Loki's side. "If you ever find yourself in close quarters and in need of an escape, stabbing your foe in the side can be an excellent way to throw them off balance. It will give you a moment to regroup and find a new attack strategy."

Loki marveled at the blade, so beautiful in its simplicity; the long, tapered point and the diamond shaped hole in the metal right before it rounded out into a curved handle. 

"Here, you may have this one," Frigga said and Loki took the knife from her, holding it with reverence. 

"Thank you, Mother," Loki said. He had learned more from Frigga than he could have ever imagined, all of it feeding into his insatiable thirst for knowledge. He would not rest until he had learned everything she could teach him.

  


_five._

Several centuries later, Loki found himself on a rooftop in New York, facing off against the man he'd considered his brother for over a millennium.

"It's too late. It's too late to stop it," Loki said when Thor asked him to give up on his war.

"No, we can. Together," Thor said, his eyes searching and hopeful. Hope turned into betrayal when Loki reached for his hidden dagger and stabbed Thor in the side.

"Sentiment," Loki said, but as he did, a single tear rolled his cheek. For Thor. For himself. And for Frigga.

It was a tainted offering of sorts; a brief moment of regret from a son who knew he had not done his mother proud.


End file.
